


Bulma and the Monkey Prince

by TiedyedTrickster



Series: Geta!verse [1]
Category: DBZ - Fandom, Dragon Ball
Genre: (and Goku as a saiyan but he's not here yet), Alternate Universe, Bulma is awesome, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Geta is a spaz but also awesome, Incredibly AU, Vegeta raised as a human, geta!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4664694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiedyedTrickster/pseuds/TiedyedTrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My name’s Geta, by the way – Vegeta, really, but most people just call me Geta.” A single event in history is altered, and the entire timeline breaks, old pieces falling together into a new pattern as two fates are exchanged, and a blue-haired woman meets a very different black-haired youth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bulma and the Monkey Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: When I say ‘alternate universe,’ I really mean the alternate bit.

Bulma growled and shook her radar angrily, then snapped open the back, fiddled with some wires, clicked it shut, and started it up again to reveal…

A blank grid.

It should be working. She’d tested it on several smaller pieces of meteorite before setting out, and it had picked those up just fine! A chunk the size this one should be, even one that had hit about 14 years ago and had had time to settle into the surrounding jungle… it should be lighting up the screen like a beacon! Instead…

Nothing. Not a blip, not a speck of light to indicate the slightest astrological activity had ever occurred, when even the nearby village had confirmed ‘yup, meteor, loud as anything when it hit, amazing it didn’t start a fire or take out half the forest!’

So _why couldn’t she find it?!?_

“A beautiful genius should not have to put up with this, you stupid piece of **JUNK**!” And with a mighty heave, she hurled the offending instrument into the treetops-

KLONK, “ ** _OW_**!”

Bulma jumped as a young man appeared, dangling by his knees from a tree limb, her radar in one hand and a red mark in the middle of his forehead. His hair was black, and probably would have been past his shoulders if he hadn’t been upside down. He was wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts, and nothing else.

Oh, and he was scowling ferociously at her.

“The hell did you do that for?! I was minding my own business – I wasn’t even looking down your shirt or anything!”

Bulma gulped. He was _wonderfully_ tan, and, while some guys really needed to never expose their stomachs to the light of day, he was not one of them. If it wasn’t for that scowl, Bulma might have been tempted to start flirting, but scowls were hideously unattractive. So, as it was, she scowled back, ready to defend herself from this uncouth stranger. “As if I was aiming at you – I didn’t even know you were _there_!”

He blinked, scowl abating somewhat. “You didn’t?” he considered this for a moment, then nodded. “I guess I was pretty high up, and the leaves are pretty thick here. Okay, sorry for shouting.” And he smiled.

 _‘Oooooh, I take it all back, he’s a total babe!’_ Bulma gulped again and offered her own smile. “Sorry for hitting you. Uh, need any help? I’ve got a first aid kit with me.”

“Nah,” he waved a hand at her, “I’m fine – but I think your machine might have gotten dented.” Flipping down to land in front of her, he offered her the radar, which was indeed sporting a new dent, “That was a hell of a throw! My name’s Geta, by the way – Vegeta, really, but most people just call me Geta.”

“Bulma…” she accepted the radar with limp fingers, staring at Geta’s hair, not a strand of which had shifted from the spiky flame it had made as he hung by his knees. Except he was right side up now. Which meant… “How much gel do you _have_ in there?”

He ran a hand through his hair at her question, glancing up at it as he did so. “Eh? None. It just does this – has as long as I can remember.”

“…oh.” Shaking her head, Bulma refocused on her task, which involved finding meteors, not weird hot guys. “Do you know this area well?”

Geta stood up proudly, though not as impressively as his pose merited, considering he barely came up to her shoulders, “I know this jungle better than anyone! Which trees have the best coconuts, where all the fresh water is, which dinosaurs aren’t as watchful over their nests as they could be – everything!”

Now this was more like it! “Awesome! Where’s the meteor?”

“The what now?”

Then again, maybe this was more of the same. “Meteor – one crashed here a bit over a decade ago, and I want to find it. It would be big and distinctive, probably grey-black and made of a metallic substance.”

“Oh.” Geta thought for a moment, chin in hand and expression focussed. “It doesn’t sound familiar, but there’s a lot of weird rocks out here. There could be one like that and I’m just forgetting…” shrugging, he grinned at her. “I could always take you around to see some, if you want.”

Starting to step forward, something occurred to Bulma, and she stepped back instead, eyes narrowing. “How do I know that that’s all you want to do?”

Geta tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Eh?”

“Well, think about it,” Bulma gestured between the two of them with one hand, “A mysterious stranger, offering to take a frail, beautiful flower of femininity off into the jungle, alone, where _anything_ could happen, and no one could stop him…”

Geta’s eyes went wide and his cheeks went scarlet. “Don’t be vulgar! I may live alone in the jungle, but I assure you, I am a complete gentleman!”

Bulma straightened indignantly. “How dare you call me vulgar!”

“How dare you suggest I would do something like that!” his hair seemed even bristlier in his indignation, and his tail was lashing behind him, equally bristly-

Tail?

“Holy _shit_ , you’ve got a tail!”

Geta’s rage receded to a sullen glower. “Yeah, so?”

“Why do you have a tail?!”

“Well, because I’m an alien, obviously!”

Bulma gaped at him. “Really?”

He gave her a withering look. “ _No_. Honestly, everyone knows there’s no such thing as aliens. I just didn’t cut it off – don’t know why everyone else does that, tails are damn useful.”

Stung by the implied criticism of her phenomenal intellect, Bulma folded her arms and scowled. “Normal people don’t have tails.”

She got a ‘well, _duh_ ’ look in return for her troubles. “Yeah, I know – you cut them off.”

“No, I mean we don’t have them _at all_.”

“Whatever.” He turned his back to her, hands in his pockets, and started to walk away, tail swinging confoundingly behind him, before pausing to look back over his shoulder at her, grinning. “So, are you coming or not?”

Bulma blinked, surprised, “You’re still willing to do that?”

He shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Well, we just had a pretty heated fight, for starters.”

The grin got wider. “I like to fight – fists or words – but the guys at the dojo only use fists for the most part. You’re fun, and interesting, and you’ve got a hell of a throwing arm! So come on, let’s go find your space rock – it’ll be an adventure!” and he held out a hand to her.

Bulma found herself grinning back in spite of herself as she walked over, though she didn’t take his hand. “Okay. But only because you’re hot, tail or no.”

Sticking out his tongue, Geta turned his face forward again quickly, to hide his blush. “So, what do you want this rock for, anyway?”

Falling into step beside him, Bulma happily began to explain. “I’m hoping it’s a metallic-type meteor – space metals and iron fused together in an ore you can’t find naturally occurring on Earth! It’s got all sorts of interesting qualities – it can withstand huge amounts of pressure, high temperatures, possibly even re-direct ki! And a lump this size- I’d have enough to have some being analyzed for possible replication, and enough left over to have some to play with in the meantime! It could take months to find that much ore from smaller meteors – years even! This is the potential find of a lifetime!”

Geta glanced sideways at the dreamy-eyed young woman. “Are you a scientist or something?”

Bulma snorted. “I’m one of the best, if not _the_ best, scientists in the world! Which is why the coordinators of the Tenkaichi Budokai came to _me_ when they finally wised up and decided to get someone to make their stage more durable!”

“Budokai?” he looked at her curiously, “What’s that? And why do they need a stronger stage?”

“You haven’t heard of the Budokai? But you go to a dojo – I thought _all_ martial artists knew about the Budokai!”

Geta shrugged. “Never heard of it.”

Bulma stared at him. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

Geta gave her a goofy grin in return. “That, I do not!”

 

OoOoOoOoO

They camped that night in a small clearing - too small to fit a capsule house, to Bulma’s annoyance. Geta seemed unbothered, though, clearing a space to make a fire pit before turning to her curiously.

“You have any gear with you that’s not in your house?” he asked. She shook her head. “Food?” he looked surprised when she shook her head again. “Really? All your food and gear’s in your house? That… shows a truly remarkable lack of foresight.”

“Hey!” she scowled at him, “I’ll have you know I’ve got _plenty_ of foresight! I happen to be a genius, you know!”

He shrugged. “Coulda fooled me. I mean, going into the jungle expecting there to be convenient clearings for capsule houses? Who does that?”

“Why you-!” she scrabbled around on the ground and threw a rock at him, which he caught easily enough.

“Hey, no point in getting mad at me for all this, I’m just pointing out the obvious.” He stood up and stretched, his tail poofing out momentarily as he did so. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. I know this area, remember? I’ll find us some supper.”

“And leave me here _alone_?”

“You were wandering around just fine on your own before,” he pointed out reasonably.

“That was different,” she turned away, scowling, “I knew where I was then. And we were closer to that village. Besides, I’m a city girl – I don’t know much about the jungle.”

He stared at her for a moment, blinking. “You wandered into the jungle, on your own, without proper survival gear or knowledge of the area. You do realise we have _dinosaurs_ around here, right? The carnivorous kind?”

“Of course I do!” she hadn’t. “Besides, things have a way of working out. I found you, after all. And it’s not like _you’ve_ got any gear, either!”

“Okay, one,” he held up a finger, “You may be a city girl, but I’m a jungle boy – I’ve lived here as long as I can remember. I know this region better than anyone. And two,” he held up another finger, “Who says I don’t have any gear with me?” reaching into one of his pockets, he drew out a small capsule case and held it up. “You’re not the only one with these things, you know.”

She gaped at him. “If you had the stuff we need the whole time then why did you ask me if _I_ had it?!”

“I wanted to know what our resources were,” he responded calmly, putting his case away again, “And I wanted to give you a chance to be useful. Gonna be honest again, you haven’t done much so far other than hit me in the head.” He dodged the rock that got hurled at him for this comment, “Yeah, like that. Anyway, sit tight – there’s no meat-eaters too close to this area, so you should be fine while I get us supper.”

And he left, hands in his pockets, tail swinging behind him, while Bulma sputtered.

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

After about half an hour he returned, a dinosaur egg under one arm and another held in his tail, each a red-brown oblong a bit larger than a football, a large lizard and some plants under one arm, and a huge smile on his face.

“We lucked out! Tonight, we feast!”

Bulma eyed the eggs. “Well I certainly hope you’re planning on cooking that feast, ‘cause I’ve got no clue what to do with that stuff. I didn’t even know you _could_ eat dinosaur eggs!”

“You can if you can get them. Don’t worry, I know what to do.”

Normally cooking was something Bulma left to either her mother or the kitchen robots, but there wasn’t much else to do out here, so she watched Geta cook. He ended up roasting the lizard over the fire first, which actually didn’t smell too bad, if Bulma was honest. The eggs he cut palm-sized holes in using a clasp knife, and then poured about half of each into a frying pan he’d had in one of his capsules, after which he shredded the plants and put them and some of the bits of the cooked lizard in the eggshells with the remaining egg, placing them to cook in the embers of the fire.

Bulma would have been the first to admit, the entire thing sounded more than a little off-putting when you looked at the ingredients list, but it actually smelled pretty good, especially the egg-plant-meat things, and she readily accepted one when Geta cracked the shell half off and handed it to her.

The first bite had her re-evaluating her sentiments.

“Oh _kami_!” she gagged, spitting and trying to wipe off her tongue, “That is the nastiest thing I’ve ever put in my mouth – how can something smell so _good_ and taste so _bad_?!? What is this, some sort of elaborate joke?!” she looked across the fire to find Geta staring at her, head tilted in a puzzled manner and his own egg half gone.

“What are you talking about? This is one of my favorite dishes – don’t get it very often, ‘cause dinos don’t lay as many eggs as chickens do, or as regularly, but I’ve always thought it was great!”

“Have you ever cooked it for anyone else before?” Bulma demanded crossly. Hesitantly he shook his head.

“I don’t really see people in the jungle much, only when I go to the village.” He looked away. “I think you might be the first person I’ve cooked for.”

Bulma was about to be either mildly mortified or at least slightly apologetic when he shrugged dismissively and grinned at her. “Eh, guess I’m not as good a cook as I thought I was – that or I’ve got weird tastes. Try the lizard on its own, maybe you’ll like that better.”

With far less readiness than she’d tried the egg concoction, Bulma complied, and even then it was only because she was really hungry. Fortunately, the lizard turned out to be fairly edible on its own, so she had some of that while Geta polished off his egg, moved on to hers, then finished the extra whites he’d cooked in the frying pan before sitting back with a contented sigh. Bulma stared.

“Okay, where did you even _put_ all that?! That was enough food for three men, and you’re smaller than me!”

He shrugged. “I live an active life and have a big appetite. My dad does, too.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah. You may have heard of him – his name’s Sun Wukong.”

The blue-haired woman choked on her bite of lizard and began coughing. The flame-haired youth made a move to help her, but she waved him off, staring at him with watering eyes. “Your dad’s the _monkey king_?!?”

“‘sright!” he nodded, “That’s the real reason I’ve got a tail. He left me here as a little kid, so I could grow up learning to survive in the wild like he did and get strong. When I’m strong enough, my hair’ll turn golden like his, and he’ll come and get me, and we’ll have adventures together.”

She stared at him and, for a moment, he really did look like a character out of a legend, his hair forming that strange black flame, tail waving behind him, black eyes glittering in the firelight. Then she blinked and the moment was broken. “Bull.”

Geta groaned. “How come no one ever believes that one? It’s my favorite!” flopping onto his stomach, he rested his chin on his arms and watched her through the fire. “You’re from the city, right? You said you’re a city girl earlier.”

Bulma nodded. “Yup, West City, born and raised.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Why would you want to hear about West City?” Bulma asked warily, in case this was another joke or something.

“I’ve never been to a city before. Master Moo-shun’s been to a bunch, but that was a long time ago, so they’ve probably changed since then.” He let his feet wave back and forth in the air lazily.

“Who’s Master Moo-shun?” Bulma asked, raising one eyebrow.

“He’s a martial artist – he runs the village dojo.” Geta grinned. “You can check if you don’t believe me. Tell me about the city.”

Bulma raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “What if I don’t feel like talking about West City?” she countered, annoyed at how this kid seemed to think he could order her around.

He shrugged. “Then tell me about something else. Like that adventure you went on a few years ago you mentioned earlier, with the old man and the bandit and the magic balls. It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.”

Bulma gave an indignant huff. “Who says I don’t?”

Geta’s tone was annoyingly reasonable. “If you did, you’d be doing it. Come on, we may have just met, but I can tell you like talking. Talk to me – I’m a good listener. And that’s the truth.” He winked.

And really, that wasn’t such an unreasonable request, so Bulma did. She told him about finding the first dragon ball at a flea market she frequented for mechanical odds and ends for her inventions, and how she’d remembered seeing something similar in the sea of paraphernalia her parents had gathered over the years. She spoke of researching the mysterious orbs, doing tests on them, discovering the legend and building the dragon radar, setting out on her own for an adventure…

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

She didn’t really remember falling asleep, but it must have happened at some point, because one moment she was looking at Geta as he watched her intently through the embers of the dying fire (he’d been right, he _was_ a good listener), the next she was blinking up at the sunlight filtering weakly through the thick jungle foliage and remembering exactly why she didn’t like sleeping on the ground. Mornings should be eased into from the comfort of a soft bed with the radio playing a welcoming song and the curtains letting in just the right amount of light.

Mornings _shouldn’t_ make their presence known with roots in the small of your back, dirt in your clothes, and your mouth tasting weird because you ate roasted lizard for supper and couldn’t brush your teeth afterwards. She groaned and put an arm over her eyes.

“Morning!”

The greeting was way too chipper, and when Bulma came into power, she was going to ban greetings like that before noon. Heck, maybe she’d be thorough and ban people who could do mornings without coffee all together. …except then there would be no one to make _her_ coffee, so that was a bad idea. No, wait, she could build a robot to make the coffee for her, still a good idea-

An upside-down grinning face appeared in her line of sight at that moment. “You’re finally up!”

She groaned again. “I feel disgusting, I need to moisturize, and all my hygiene products are in my capsule house. I was trying to _avoid_ this part of my last adventure.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, sitting back on his heels so she could get up, “Come on, daylight’s wasting, let’s go!”

Bulma sat up with a groan. “Urgh, what’s the rush?”

“The sooner you find your rock, the sooner you’re out of my jungle.” Was the prompt response.

That woke her up. “What do you mean _your_ jungle? And what happened to ‘it’ll be an adventure’?!”

He tilted his head to the side, “Well, for starters, it woke you up. Next, the adventure’s just starting, and third,” he smirked, “It **is** my jungle.”

“How do you figure that?” Bulma scowled.

“Because no one else lives here and no one else wants it,” he said firmly, “And I know it better than anyone alive. So it’s already as good as mine, so I might as well exert ownership. Which means,” he stood up and dusted off his knees, “That I’ve got to take good care of you while you’re a guest in my realm.” And he bowed.

Bulma couldn’t help it, she laughed. “Are you always this weird?”

“No. Well, yes,” he admitted ruefully, “I’m usually less awkward about it, though. I’m told I’m terrible around strangers. Don’t tell anyone, it’s a huge secret.”

Catching a glint in his eye, Bulma grinned back at him. “How many people know?”

“Only the entire village,” he said, expression overly serious, “But considering what a minute percentage they make of the world’s population, I’d say we’re doing a pretty good job at keeping it from spreading.” He offered her a hand up, which she accepted.

“So, do you really want me out of ‘your’ jungle?”

“Nah, I just said that to wake you up.” He shrugged. “So, are you coming or not?”

“What about breakfast?”

“I already ate, thanks for asking.” He laughed at her expression, “Hey, you’re the one who slept late and missed it – come on, there’s lots of stuff to eat out here, we’ll grab you something on the way to the next rock. Which is in this direction! Follow me!” and he strode off into the foliage, and Bulma followed, half-wondering exactly what she’d gotten herself into.

**Author's Note:**

> Back before The Three Professors, before all my Radcha sexytime stories, before The First Time, and A Ghost’s Story, and even The Monkey King Tarot, there was Geta!verse. This is technically my very first DBZ story – I wrote the first half of this scene, the initial daytime meeting, June 17, 2014. The second half got written between September 10-12, 2014. Many scenes got written in between, and after, and almost none of them in sequential order. I had planned to start posting them once I had everything I have written typed up, but that’s taking forever and it isn’t as necessary as it would be in other stories. Because this isn’t a story with a broad, over-arcing plot, so much as an alternate universe my sister (literally) dreamed up, and which I proceeded to take over and mold into my liking after she was horrible and wrote two amazing but incomplete scenes which I was forced to finish for her. This is really more of a series made of slice-of-life style stories from that universe (keeping in mind that it’s a slice of DBZ style life, so it’s gonna have a lot more fighting and mad science and magic than the usual slice-of-life story). It’s kinda weird, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it as much as I do.
> 
> As you may have guessed by now, this is an EXTREMELY alternate universe, one going on the question ‘what would have happened if Vegeta had been raised human and unaware of his heritage, and Goku had been raised saiyan?’ At least, that was the initial question – there were a few more as the story and universe grew. You’ll find out more as I post more fics and, eventually, as I type up the rest of what I have and post that. Don’t worry, it’s going to be fun – this is my AU where, for the most part, if a thing can go right or wrong, it goes right. And if it goes wrong, there’s a good reason and pay-off down the road.
> 
> This is not a story where Vegeta has grown up in Goku’s circumstances; he arrived on Earth in a slightly different manner, in a different location, and has had a very different life than Goku has. This means that Geta is a very, very different person than Vegeta, so he’s not going to be acting exactly like Vegeta, though I try to keep some traits around, such as his pride, and his love of fighting. However, there will be so much OOCness, but it’s on purpose, there’s a reason behind every single bit of it (all of which will eventually be explained), and I hope you can enjoy Geta as much as I do. Things that will be explained in the future include why he thinks all humans have tails in spite of interacting with them more than Goku did, why he’s making up stories about where he comes from, why he doesn’t remember what he is, why he's still using the name 'Vegeta' when he doesn't know he's saiyan, how he got here, why he may seem to shift moods somewhat abruptly, why he’s living in the jungle and has that vocabulary, and why he likes the egg-lizard-plant dish and Bulma doesn’t. (Also, in regards to his cooking in this chapter, he was totally trying to show off, it just fell flat). Further note, his capsules mostly contain smaller things that are useful to have with him when he’s wandering the jungle but which would be annoying to otherwise carry – like the frying pan. Things like the clasp knife he just has in his pockets. He also tends to wear exactly as much as he is wearing right now, to wit, a pair of cargo shorts and underwear. He has very tough feet.
> 
> Geta  
> Age: 19 (Bulma thinks he's around 16 or 17)  
> Height: 4’10”
> 
> Bulma  
> Age: 18  
> Height: 5’6”


End file.
